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Arathorn Everric
' Arathorn Julian Everric' (Air-uh-thorne Joo-Lee-ehn Eh-verr-rick) is a human anti-hero, son of Robert Everric and descendant of the Moon Clan, and in turn, a descendant of Ariston Everric and Garrick Everric. Arathorn's involvement in the Everric family as a whole is rather minimal and he prefers to travel the world, making his name known where he can, operating under the alias 'Raven. '''Arathorn himself is the son of Robert Everric and the deceased Alexandria Everric. In turn, Arathorn prefers to travel the world, and in contrast to most of the living Everric, Arathorn is a dark, egotistical, overly-confident and impulsive individual. Most could view him as the darker counterpart to his distant cousin, Gabriel Everric. Arathorn was created and role-played by Matt. History ''This section covers Arathorn's biographical history. Origin and Early Life In the late fifth age, Robert Everric, a Lunar Mage and his then wife, Alexandria Everric, gave birth to a black-haired baby with lime-green eyes, they named him Arathorn. Arathorn lived happily with Robert, Alex and his elder sister, Selene. Arathorn always showed darker qualities when he was just a young boy, especially after his mother, Alexandria, passed away when he was only four, during the birth of his little sister, Kristina. When Arathorn was a young ward, at about the age of seven, he was sent to train at the Wizard's tower, where he showed great promise and skill, though he found himself trying to use the strongest of spells, and found himself over-exerting and passing out. Despite all this, he continued to try his hardest at casting the most powerful of magicks. Eventually, with the correct guidance, Arathorn became adept at the elemental magics. At the age of ten, he was sent to Aspera Tower Academy to train, and quickly he became a self-induced outcast. Despite all attempts at people trying to make friends with him, including Garth and Evelyn Aren, Arathorn remained reclusive due to his strange circumstances. He ended up learning the four schools of the Ancient Magicks and several others whilst finally befriending Garth. Together the two excelled through the academy, though they maintained their distance and didn't accept any high honors that they may have recieved. The Raven After an argument and eventual falling-out between Garth and Arathorn, Arathorn departed Aspera and left to explore the world at the age of eighteen. The argument was on Garth's sexuality, truly. With this, Arathorn began his adventures throughout the world, becoming well-travelled, studying where he could. Coupling with this, Arathorn became somewhat of a mercenary mage, and a sort of vigilante, emerging from his reclusive shell and becoming the confident, yet brooding individual that he is today. Arathorn took contracts where he could, avoiding his family at most costs until he happened upon Yanille, where his great-great grandfather, Garrick, resided. Arathorn travelled back to Yanille at about twenty-two, flickering his eyes about the area, many green-eyed and black-haired individuals lived there, but they registered as Arens. The only discernable difference were the shade of the eyes, Everric always had brighter eyes. Arathorn finally dropped his shoulders, sighing deeply, he had let down his guard and found himself quickly bumping into Garrick. Garrick smiled, being a rather tall fellow, he looked down at Arathorn. Arathorn strangely enough, was one of the shortest members of his family, being only 5'8", his gaze flickered upward and almost immediately downward once he saw Garrick's eyes. "Hello there." Garrick said, grinning from ear to ear. "Hello." Arathorn's head lowered, his hand almost moving to the dagger, but he stopped himself. He looked up to Garrick to catch a glimpse of his face again, and was rather surprised to see the point in his ears. "You-.. you have pointed ears." "Half-Elf." Garrick replied bluntly despite keeping a grin on his features. "You are not an Aren either-.. Matter-of-fact, you could be one of my children." "I have no family." Arathorn retorted sharply as he turned to step away. "You are an Everric." Garrick called out, smiling gently as he watched Arathorn trail off. At this, Arathorn's eyes widened, his form contorted as he shifted on his feet to face Garrick. "How did you know?" He inquired, knowing this man was somehow related to him. "Your eyes, your hair. Only Everric have them." Garrick approached as he replied, smiling as he set his hands upon Arathorn's shoulders and began telling him about all he knew of the Everric. After their conversation had just about ended, a raven landed upon Arathorn's shoulder. In turn, a black-cat, Russ, appeared upon Garrick's shoulder. Garrick smiled brightly, looking at the bird and commanding it to stay with Arathorn. Arathorn seemed unable to grasp the concept of the bird being here, a quizzical expression lingered on his features, and he was absolutely astounded to see the bird speak. Eventually, after a short conversation, Arathorn finally made the decision to name the bird Corvin. It was this day that Arathorn decided to continue in his studies, being trained at the Aren Arcane Institute for about three more years until he was given free leave by Garrick. Ties That Bind Arathorn took Corvin and departed Yanille, this time he travelled southward and took a leisurely stroll toward Oo'glog, passing by Gu'Tanoth and the surrounding Jungles. After avoiding the Ogre's for a few days, Garrick continued his journey one day with Corvin on his shoulder. An arrow flew from nowhere, clipping Corvin's wing and pinning him to a tree. In a few moments, there was a scream and a yell, notably of a more tribal nature; Arathorn was knocked out cold, hit with a mace on the side of the head, and then beaten after he collided with the ground. When he next awoke, he he was in a strange facility, looking to be somewhere underground, in reality it was a series of tunnels beneath Gu'Tanoth, only a few hundred feet away from the Skavid Caves. It was a group of Zamorakian fanatics who had a hold of him, led by a mage. An occultic ritual was being performed, Corvin was in a cage nearby, Arathorn's vision was blurry, his entire body in pain as he struggled to keep himself awake. He shifted about, only to find that he had been restrained by chains, and was completely naked, beaten and bloodied. He had no idea how long he had been here, though it seemed to have been a few days. He was in the back of the Ritual Chamber, all he could hear from it was that the leader's name, the wizard, was "Master Leotrun." He continued to struggle, yelling with whatever strength that yet remained within his body. After a few moments, he found himself passing out once again. After he had passed out, he was released from his chains and allowed to sleep for a a couple of days. When he awoke again, he found himself still within the ritual chamber, being force-fed bread and water. They left him once more, his wounds had begun to heal a bit more, and the pain in his body was slightly lessened than from when he could last remember. He watched as another prisoner's blood was drained from their body by a simple puncture to the femoral artery in the leg, and the blood was pumped into a single, large cistern. It appeared to be more of a tub than anything, but Arathorn did not care at the time, he was only in horror at the sight of it. The body was dragged out, and Arathorn once again passed out, it was unknown to him whether it was from the sight of all the blood, or just from his own mental and physical exhaustion. Arathorn awoke once more, this time, it was when he made contact with the ground, and he was forced up by two of the fanatic guards. The guards prodded him in the back with their spears and pushed him onward to the center of the ritual chamber, the cult was small, likely only twenty people in full were within it. Arathorn's gaze flickered around the room, the one known as "Master Leotrun" approached him. "Everric-.. Good. You're finally awake. I am Theodore Leotrun, and you will remember my name." The Leotrun Wizard's hair was fully white, and he seemed to be older, sporting a long, sage's beard. The man held a dagger in his hand, and he brought it up to Arathorn's right eye before proceeding to run it from his forehead, across his right eye and down to the beginning of his cheek. The man only spared his eye, leaving a small incision in the eyelid as well. Arathorn only bled more, biting his lip so that he didn't cry out in pain. Theo grinned a sinister grin before he turned off towards the rest of the small crowd that had gathered, he lifted his arms stating, "Behold! A sacrifice! To our Lord, Zamorak!" Arathorn had been surveying the room still, ignoring the aches and pains in his body as his gaze came to rest upon the blood. His eyes flashed a bright lime-green, he was slumped over, the blood had begun to draw to him, very slowly as it coursed up his figure and into his hands. It took a few moments for anyone, even the nearby guards, to register what exactly was happening. Arathorn lofted both hands into the air before him and within them appeared two whips of blood, one in each hand. He spun his body around, first lashing around and slicing at the necks of both guards, leaving a trail of blood, and much to their own chagrin, their necks were sliced open. Arathorn cried out angrily, descending into a frenzy, killing everyone within the room. Theo ran away from the center of the chamber, only to find his leg being wrapped about by a blood whip of blood, the blood had increased due to the rest of the cultists being killed. Arathorn pulled him in and spoke, engulfing most of Theodore's body into a ball of blood, except for up to the head. "I will remember your name, Theodore. But know this, my name will be the last you hear. I am Arathorn Everric, and you will pay." As soon as Arathorn had finished his short speech, Theodore opened his mouth to offer a presumably sarcastic retort. Instead of this, he found that the blood had begun to trail into his own mouth and that he began to choke upon it as no man or woman can truly consume blood, especially not breathe it. In a few moments, the blood fell to the floor, followed up quickly by a blue-faced and lifeless Theodore Leotrun. Arathorn stood there before promptly collapsing, he was once again, unconscious. in some way, shape or form, Corvin had found his way from his cage and proceeded to fly over to him. He flew away, finding himself outside of the place and flying to Yanille in a mere few moments. Arathorn awoke a few moments later, standing, he had blood all over his nude form as he stumbled weakly out of the Ritual Chamber. Through the small series of catacombs, he traversed, and once he had reached daylight, he collapsed once more. He had no strength to continue, and he began to cough again. Arathorn's next awakening took place in the infirmary of the Aren Arcane Institute, Garrick standing over him, Russ and Corvin perched on either shoulder. Garrick smiled warmly, glad to see that Arathorn had pulled through this whohle ordeal. He set his hand on him, telling him that he was proud, and that there was much more in store for him, greater and better things. For Arathorn, this was a life-changing experience, and it made him begin his studies in the darker side of magic. The Nymph and The Raven Under the tutelage of Michael, Garrick, Alexander, Ingram and Claire Everric, Arathorn's blossoming continued to only grow and he was named a High Mage within the Institute and there were a few reasons for the defense of the Institute to be needed, but, they were only the smaller threats. Arathorn was sent out, along with a partner, this partner was a young student, Cersei Blackthorn-Cross. The two seemed irritable to be together, maybe due to both of them having over-inflated ego's. Nonetheless, the journey was eventful, and Cersei complained most of the time about Arathorn being insensitive and persisting to keep travelling. He could only shrug it off and continue, and eventually the two reached a certain spot that made Arathorn cringe, the place he had been captured. Corvin flew through the air above them, circling the area like a vulture. A little cyan demon-fox, the pet of Cersei, Reinhardt, was along with them. Cersei looked to Arathorn, noting his expression, and something crossed her face; it was a look of concern, something that she didn't usually feel, any form of caring. Arathorn looked back to her and gave a reassuring smile before he looked at the caverns and called Corvin to him before entering. He took note that the blood had either been eroded, or cleaned and he cringed, preparing a spell as he gestured for Cersei to follow. Cersei only nodded in return and followed after, charging her own spells in return and following after, along with Reinhardt. The group continued on, only to find a group of Leotrun and Silverkin mages within the area, and Arathorn smiled brightly, something more sadistic than most knew. Cersei noted this and readied herself, as sigils appeared at Arathorns hands, Cersei charged her own spells, preparing for combat. One by one, the mages in that room fell, dead, knocked out, brutally maimed. The two were a deadly pair, and their pets only stayed back and watched when they needed to. One managed to hit Arathorn in the shoulder with a small ice spike, to which, Cersei dragged Arathorn to the side and examined his wound before finishing off the last of them with a couple of vines and toppling them atop them. Cersei returned to Arathorn, who had already pulled the ice spike out of his shoulder and examined it. Cersei questioned what had happened and why a Saradominist and a Zamorakian group would be working together. Arathorn, an avid reader of Everric history, explained the whole Leotrun-Silverkin Feud that happened so many years ago to her and how House Blackthorn had helped in that endeavour, even though the two houses were now more of enemies than anything. They left the area, sleeping under the cover of a group of trees that Cersei had formed together, making a large canopy that avoided the rainy night. There were no storms, and the two sat around a fire, Corvin and Reinhardt were actually getting along and talking elsewhere. The two were sitting upon a log, telling each other stories and Arathorn explained how he got his scar from the Leotrun not so long ago. Cersei had healed his wound, though, after the combat, this had made her a bit pale and weak. It was only enough so that Arathorn could use it again and something he also found unusual was that he thanked her for it. They gradually had scooted next to one another, and Arathorn looked at her, happy that Cersei wasn't disgusted by his scar. So, the two leaned in to one another and their lips met in the middle. It wasn't long that the two began testing one another's limits, and finally, Arathorn pulled her onto his lap and fell backwards, landing on an Arcane Bed. This became the start of their relationship as lovers and best friends, yet, there was something that Arathorn couldn't do in this relationhip, and it was commit to one person. Cersei Blackthorn.jpg|Cersei Blackthorn The Man of Today Arathorn's return into the modern world started with him meeting with Evelyn Aren, a former friend from Aspera, Gabriel Everric and Gabriel's little brother Ravalan. For a few moments they spoke on the past, Gabriel was having a hard time discerning who exactly he was and what relation he was to him. But, Gabriel finally decided to ask, wondering if Arathorn was truly an Everric, to which Eve replied solemnly, telling him he was indeed an Everric. After an encounter with Garth, and a sarcastic exchange of wit between the two old friends, Arathorn chuckled, departing along with his crow, and teleported off to Seers Bar where he met Michael and an older mercenary named Kaiser, and they spoke for some time on magic, and what they do in life while eventu ally sobering up Michael. Arathorn found himself in Yanille bar with Allannah Everric, Lenea Renderra and Michael Everric as well. The three had a few bits of adventure, and eventually he found himself alone with Lenea, before the arrival of Ravalan Everric, who caused a bit of problems for them. Arathorn brought Lenea back to his dorm before the arrival of his sister, Kristina, who had come to visit Yanille after a good five or so years. And after a few moments, they found their meetng sabotaged by Driez Renderra, who left a box of Afrodisiac chocolates. After a visit from Allannah, the chocolates kicked in and Arathorn and Lenea were left to their business. Gentle into sleep The Night was young, everything within the confines of Cyrus' mighty tower were prepared. There stood was a strange pedestal in the center of the tower, with a whole just big enough for you to place an average sized pole-arm. Laid upon two tables on either the north or south side of the pedestal were the bony remains of what looked to be a young woman, and the perfectly preserved and comatose body of another man, the third stood there was a blonde-haired and blue eyed young woman, watching the spectacle with glazed eyes. Blue energy whirred around the bodies., moonlight shined in from the windows. A young man clad in black, with a scar that took the majority of the right side of his face, stood poised in the center, taking one last glance into the large tome that lay at the base of the pedestal. The markings within it were indecipherable by some of the most brilliant intellects of the time. Muttering a few words in some Ancient Language, and gripping the strange amulet from his chest, he clenched it in hand and walked to the wall to retrieve his staff. Beneath the shadow of his cowl, the man's green eyes fell upon the only other conscious being within the room. She stayed in place, arms folded across her chest. As their gazes had met, her own had fallen to the ground just between her feet. He could only offer a reassuring smile as he padded over to her, heavy steps were being taken on. The man looked to be sleepless, though, he set the staff against the wall behind her and placed the amulet in a pouch that hung at his waist. Staring into her eyes, his arms drew up to rub at her shoulders, and in a soft tone, he spoke, "You're going to make sure the families are okay, aren't you?" She only nodded, only choking on her words as tears began to trickle down her rosy cheeks. He smiled once again, hands lofting to the sides to cup each cheek in hand and thumb away her tears, "I love you, Cersei. Don't forget that." Without waiting for another response, he pulled her into a fleeting and platonic kiss. This only illicited silence from the both of them as the man pulled away. The one called Cersei stood frozen in place as the man grabbed his staff and walked up the stone pedestal's steps, into the center. Cersei muttered under her breath, yet loud enough for her love to hear as well, "I love you too... Arathorn." The scar-faced man gave a gentle smile as he drove the staff into its place with a loud thud. The rumbling sounds of mechanisms clocked open as the roof opened fully to reveal the ligiht of the full moon Zanaris shining directly above them. Silent chanting began from Arathorn's end, the enchantments that whirred around the two bodies now swirled about him. In a short time, Arathorn's skin had gained more pallor than he had obtained in over twenty-five years, the veins in his head were popping out. A drop of blood trickled down his eye, following suit was his mouth, nose and the rest of it. The magic could only be identified as some form of Witchcraft. He grasped the amulet, which finally hung in view, bearing the symbol of a duelling wolf and dragon. Cersei's gaze returned to the bodies of the two, in which the man was beginning to stir once more. The body of the woman was reforming her flesh and skin as they spoke. The blonde was only able to stand there in sadness, and amazement. Arathorn's own flesh began to fragment, light seeping from where his skin broke off. It would look as if his skin and body were a puzzle. The man awoke finally, just in time to look upon his son as he collapsed to the pedestal below. The woman was wholesome again, brown locks hung just to her shoulders. The breath of life having been restored to them both, her eyes fell to the fallen Arathorn and then to the man she had once called husband. Tears streamed from her eyes as Robert rushed to the fallen Arathorn. Cersei and Alexandria followed suit, Arathorn's green eyes were glazed for once, as if looking to some unseen presence, his gaze fell to the moon. "I.. Mother.. You've returned." Sprawled was the body of the man that they called son, the two parents looked to each other in sorrow. The blonde woman's gaze lay upon his chest as his eyes shut for the final time. With a smile on his face, Arathorn muttered, "I'm.. Free." The distant cawing of a raven could be heard as the the man's body crumbled into dust. It was over. The group could only look on one another with mixed emotions, tears rolling down each of their faces, Robert was alive and so was his long lost wife. Looking on to Alexandria, Robert could only hug her, but he couldn't help but notice something... wasn't right. Personality Childhood Arathorn, as a child, was happy and friendly. He used to lead all of the playtimes with the other kids, up until he had realized that his mother was gone. From then on, he became dark, hence why he was sent to the Wizard's Tower. Present Arathorn aligns best with the Chaotic Neutral alignment, as all Arathorn wants is to see his family succeed, but he goes about it wrong; an anti-hero who seeks his personal pleasure first. He leans toward good most of the time, though, his moral restrictions only remain with family and killing others isn't a huge problem for Arathorn. Arathorn also finds committment very hard and seems to have trouble learning some things. His best friend is his raven, Corvin. Appearance Arathorn stands at 5'10", with a slender build, though he is muscled appropriately for a man who regularly engages in rigorous physical activities, i.e. combat. Arathorn's facial structure is relatively narrow, though, it remains somewhat long. He bears a long scar running from his forehead down his right eye and to his cheekbone. Notable Relations *Cersei Blackthorn-Cross- Cersei is Arathorn's best friend and lover for nearly four years. *Olivia Ikra- Olivia is Arathorn's newest acquaintance and conquest. *Corvin Everric- Corvin is Arathorn's talking pet Raven, who can use minor portals to transport himself any short distance. *Gabriel Everric- Gabriel is Arathorn's cousin, and sees Gabriel as one he needs to protect, but he seems to go about it the wrong way. *Selene Everric- Arathorn's older sister, the two have not seen each other in some time and have only since re-established contact. *Garth Aren- Arathorn's best friend from Aspera, the two had a falling out a little while ago and have only just re-established contact through Eve. *Evelyn Aren- Evelyn is an old friend of Arathorn's from Aspera, they have only recently re-established contact. *Robert Everric- Robert is Arathorn's father, the two have had a very strained relationship over the years, but they still acknowledge each other as father and son. *Garrick Everric- Garrick is Arathorn's mentor and best friend, Arathorn listens to most of his advice, even if he has to tweak it to his own benefit. *Michael Everric- Arathorn is very fond of Michael, and sees Michael as a livid old man who needs looking after. *Lenea Renderra- Arathorn finds her too nice, but, they have kissed and she is now staying with them. Due to implications set by Driez Renderra and the sabotaging of a box of chocolates with afrodisiacs, he and Lenea have already had a sexual encounter. Arathorn does not have feelings for her, however, and treats her as more of a "play thing." *Kristina Everric- Kristina is Arathorn's only full-sister. Trivia *As a son of Robert, Arathorn has many half-siblings, and no few full-siblings. His half-siblings include Lynette, Caedmon and Celene. *Arathorn's name, Arathorn, comes from J.R.R. Tolkien's the Lord of the Rings, Arathorn is the father of Aragorn, one of the main heroes of the series. However, the Arathorn the name was chosen in homage to Hunter and his longstanding use of the characters Aranitus Aren and Aralyn Aren. *Arathorn's favorite colours are black and green. *At the age of seven, after a short return home from the Wizard's Tower, he was present for the births of his distant cousins, Gabriel and Arkaevum. *Arathorn is one of the shortest adult members of his family, and some of his cousins are his height or taller. *Arathorn is allergic to the milk chocolate. *Arathorn uses the spell "lorem hauriendum" to compile information and store it in his head. *Arathorn is an avid user of his own innovation of Arcane magic, which encompasses using sigils for mostly anything, including combat. *Arathorn has a light bipolar personality disorder and is prone to extreme mood swings, his mood is a bit unpredictable and so are most of his actions. 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